Tender Persuasion
by fadedink26
Summary: Staff Sergeant Gail Peck was about to face her greatest challenge yet. Motherhood! But convincing her expecting and reluctant bride to marry her was going to be her hardest fight! Holly Stewart on the other hand didn't know if her jitters were caused by Gail's incredible good looks or the fear of marrying without love. (This is AU).
1. Chapter 1 - Party Favours

Title: Tender Persuasion  
Main Characters: Gail Peck, Holly Stewart  
Genre: Romance, Family  
Rating: M  
Author: Fadedink26  
Beta: GoodGollyMe

Summary: Staff Sergeant Gail Peck was about to face her greatest challenge yet. Motherhood! But convincing her expecting and reluctant bride to marry her was going to be her hardest fight! Holly Stewart on the other hand didn't know if her jitters were caused by Gail's incredible good looks or the fear of marrying without love. Could Gail convince Holly that her marriage proposal was about more than providing a home for their baby.

 **CHAPTER 1**

 ** _Holly_**

The maid of honor and the best 'man' were barely speaking. Other than that, the rehearsal dinner seemed to be a success.

Still, I thought, nowhere was it written that as maid of honor I had to like the best 'man'.

"So—" my sister, Maggie, leaned in close to me and whispered beneath the hum of conversation around us "—what do you think of her? Wasn't I right? Isn't she perfect for you?"

The "she" being Gail Peck, best 'man', police officer and the source of the jitters in the pit of my stomach.

I reached for my wineglass, took a slow sip of ginger ale, then answered in as low pitched a voice as possible. "I'm trying not to think about her."

"Ooooh," my sister gushed as her eyebrows arched high on her forehead. "Sounds promising."

Frowning slightly, I set my wineglass down and told myself that it was useless to argue with my sister over this. For almost a year, Maggie had been trying to set me up with Gail Peck, best friend of her fiancé, Chris Diaz. This little gathering was as close as she had come to succeeding.

"Look," Maggie said quietly, "you two are going to be together practically every day for the next week. Wouldn't it make more sense if you at least tried to like her?"

"Now that you bring it up," I said, half turning in my seat to face my sister squarely. "I still don't understand why I have to spend all week with the woman. You're the one getting married."

"Yeah…" Maggie's expression went soft and dreamy, and despite the fact that I had no real desire of my own to get married, a small sliver of envy pierced my heart. What would it be like, I wondered, to feel what Maggie so obviously felt for Chris?

In the next instant, though, I remembered that I wasn't interested in finding a spouse. I had my own life. A successful one, thanks very much, and I was already happy, especially now that I was getting the one thing I wanted most. Why should I go out looking for someone who would only require me to make all kinds of changes in what I considered a darned near perfect existence?

With that thought firmly in mind, I prodded my sister. "Maggie, you know I'm delighted to be your maid of honor, but—"

"No buts," she interrupted. "You promised that you would help out, Hol."

"Sure, but why—"

"There's no way I can do all of the little things that have to be done this week." Maggie leaned forward and clutched my hand. "Come on, Holly-Rancher. You can handle Gail for one little week, can't you?"

There was a challenge if ever I'd heard one. Grimly I shot a covert glance at the woman across from me: blonde hair, strong jaw, straight nose, well-shaped mouth, and eyes blue enough to make the ocean seem gray. Standing up, she was five feet eight inches of lean muscle, had a voice that made my stomach pitch with nerves and expectation with a single glance. Sure. I could handle her. No problem.

Fuck, I was in trouble. The only thing that kept me from having some serious fantasies about the woman was the fact that very soon I wouldn't be able to act on them.

Muffling a sigh, I said softly, "Little sister, you should understand better than anyone else why I don't want anything to do with a police type."

Maggie did nothing to hide her grumble of frustration. "Honestly, Hol, you would think you grew up manacled to a wall."

"Yeah. A wall that was an absent father on assignments that lasted months on end and even when he was back, he was always working."

I had hated growing up as policeman's child, especially because Dad had worked for a specialized unit. When I was younger, I just figured him for an absentee father. He had missed school plays, birthdays, science fairs. I never understood how Mom coped with it all. Never knowing where he was, or if he was coming back alive, and the constant moving depending on how his cases went down. Making and keeping friends had been hard. The one constant in my life … the one friend I had always been able to count on was Maggie. My sister, who had grown up to fall in love with a police officer. But at least Maggie's soon-to-be husband had left the force.

Gail Peck looked like a lifer to me.

"You just hate the police."

"No, I don't," I said. "I've just served my time, that's all. You've got to be relieved that Chris left the force. Admit it."

"I told him he didn't have to. It was his decision."

"A good one, too." I reached for my glass, then rethought it and settled my hand in my lap. "At least you won't be the 'single wife' like Mom had been, trying to manage a law career, raise two children and make a marriage work with no husband."

"Jeez, Hol—" Maggie's voice dropped as she shot a quick look at the other diners to make sure no one could hear them "—you make it all sound so ugly. We had a great family, Dad worked a lot but he loved us and Mom very much. A terrific life. We got fancy vacations and lots of presents to make up for his time away from us."

True, I thought. All true. But while we had the best of everything, all I had ever wanted was a family who was there both physically and emotionally.

"Yeah," I said quietly. "It was terrific."

Maggie grinned, obviously not hearing the sarcasm. "Speaking of family, did you do it?" I feigned ignorance. "Did you get inseminated?" she pressed.

"I did." I confirmed trying to keep my excitement at bay.

Maggie let out a squeal. "I can't believe you really did it. I'm going to be an aunt." She squealed again.

'It's too early to tell, Mags. We will know if I'm …." I was almost afraid to say the word. "…after my next doctor's visit. So no more talk about it until then. We don't want to jinx it."

"Okay" Maggie frowned. "Till then tell me how right I was about Gail. She is a babe, isn't she?"

Babe? Oh, she was more than a babe. But there was no way I would admit as much to Maggie. I shot Gail Peck a covert glance only to find her watching me through those incredible eyes of her. Goose bumps raced up my arms. My heartbeat quickened, and my palms were suddenly damp. This was no ordinary attraction to a beautiful woman. It was almost as if something inside me …recognized her. As if she was someone I had been waiting for.

Get a grip, I told myself as the ridiculous thought took root.

 ** _Gail_**

Grab her, I thought. Grab her, kiss her, caress her …I shook my head slightly in a vain attempt to rid myself of the almost-overpowering impulses throbbing inside me. Impulses that had been haunting me since meeting Holly Stewart three hours ago.

Her long silky straight brown hair seemed to tempt me to spear my fingers through it. Those even darker brown eyes of hers mesmerized me, and I wanted to lose myself in their depths, discover her secrets. I called on years of strict academy training to hide my reaction to her figure. A body made for lounging beside a fire and quiet, private picnics on moonlit beaches. My gaze slipped lower, and I felt something in my chest stagger. The deep vee neckline of her red silk blouse gaped a bit as she leaned in toward her sister. I caught a fleeting glimpse of tanned flesh and felt my mouth go dry.

I was in big trouble.

I shifted my gaze from Holly's face to the bottle of beer in front of me. I had to quit staring at her. Curling my fingers around the still-cold bottle, I lifted it and took a long drink.

"So," Chris whispered as he leaned in close. "What do you think of our Holly-Rancher?

A brief smile touched my lips, then faded. _Holly-Rancher_?

I risked another quick look at the woman opposite me, reminding myself not to eat her alive with my eyes. No, she was no Holly-Rancher.

Perhaps, I mused, Hol.

"C'mon Gail," Chris prodded. "What's the verdict?"

I forced a casual shrug. "She seems … nice."

"Nice?" Chris looked at me astonished. "A solid year I've been telling you about her, and all you can say when you finally meet her is that she seems nice?"

"Yeah, you told me about her." I snorted a smothered laugh. "You also told me about how she hated growing up in the force. And about all the grief she gave you when she was trying to get Maggie to dump you."

Chris frowned. "She was trying to protect her sister."

"Sure, by taking shots at you and the force."

"She's changed. She likes me now." Chris shook his head slowly. "Finally figured out that I really do love Maggie."

Fine. I could understand defending and protecting a sister. But Holly Stewart had made my friend miserable for almost six months. The fact that she was gorgeous didn't make up for that. I took a long swig of my beer. "I'm glad she likes you now," I said slowly. "But she still hates the police force."

Chris shrugged. "Maggie says that Holly never liked all the times their dad was absent and being in constant danger while they were growing up. Even I don't think that's an easy way to raise kids … which is why I got out."

"I still can't believe you left."

"Ten years was long enough for me."

"Not me," I said flatly. Why anyone would give up the police force for a woman was simply beyond me. The force had given me everything. A home, a family that included every police officer in my jurisdiction, a sense of belonging and purpose… of doing something for my country.

Nope. I would never give up all that to please a woman who would probably just end up leaving me, anyway.

"You and her would be great together."

I scowled. "Butt out."

"Hell, Gail." Chris sat back, shaking his head. "You're in worse shape than I thought."

I snapped my friend an irritated look.

Chris ignored it. "If you don't know a gorgeous, successful woman when you see her, the 15 Division ought to drum you out on the grounds of failing eyesight."

"Very funny."

"I'm serious."

"Will you let it go?"

"Probably not," Chris admitted.

"What is it with you and your kind?"

Chris laughed easily. He was still the only person Gail had ever known who was unimpressed with the patented Gail Peck glare.

"What do you mean, my kind?"

I took another swallow of beer, deliberately kept my gaze from sliding toward Holly and concentrated instead on getting my best friend off my back. "You Noah's Ark people."

Chris laughed again, but I went right on, warming to my theme.

"The minute you find somebody, you're just not happy until everyone around you is traveling in pairs." I kept my voice low so that only Chris would be able to hear me above the hum of other conversations taking place in the crowded, oceanfront restaurant. As I talked, I saw that Chris's smile faded. "You try every which way to drag the rest of us off, kicking and screaming toward some fairy-tale ending. Some of us are meant to be alone, you know. Not everybody finds happily ever after. Hell, not everyone is looking for it."

Leaning forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, Chris held his beer bottle cupped in both hands and stared at it thoughtfully before saying quietly, "You need more than the police force, Gail."

I snorted. "Look who's talking? You joined up the same time I did. For ten years, the force was enough for you."

"I retired when I found out different."

"Yeah." I shook my head. I still couldn't understand how a man walked away from his whole life without a backward glance. As for myself, I was in it for the long haul, that's what Pecks did. We were police officers first and foremost. I already had ten years in, and I planned on staying until they threw me out. Bodily.

How did Chris stand it, going from Detective to assistant security manager for some civilian computer firm?

"There is life off the force," my friend commented as if reading my mind.

"So I've noticed…. not." I swallowed a groan along with the last of my beer, then set the empty bottle down on the table.

"That's it for me," Chris said and stood up. "I know when to quit."

"Never have before," I pointed out.

"For tonight, Peck. Only for tonight." Chris grinned again and patted my shoulder as he moved around the table. "But for right now, I think I'll steal a dance with your date. I'll even let you borrow my gorgeous, almost bride for a quick spin around the floor."

Chris took Holly's hand and led her onto the shining wooden dance floor. And even when the rest of the wedding party left the table to join the dancers, my gaze never left them.

 **AN:** Thanks for stopping by to read :)


	2. Chapter 2 - And We Danced

**Chapter 2 - And We Danced**

 **Gail**

The recorded easy-rock music swelled softly, drowning conversation. I looked at Maggie and found her watching me with a knowing smile.

"Pretty, isn't she?"

Just what I needed: another prospective matchmaker. I shook my head and stood up. Walking to her side, I said, "Don't you start on me, too."

She laughed.

"Would you like to dance?" she rested her hand in mine.

Maggie was a good dancer and she followed my lead well. I nodded as she talked, and hoped I wasn't agreeing to anything I would regret later. But dammit, I just couldn't seem to keep my mind on what she was saying. Instead, my gaze continued to dart around the floor, following Holly and Chris's progress. Holly smiled at Chris, and my insides tightened.

One song led into the next and I hardly noticed, until Chris and Holly stopped alongside us.

"Okay, Peck," Chris said. "You've had enough time with that gorgeous woman, and this one " he jerked his head to indicate Holly, "keeps begging me to get you to dance with her."

"Chris!" Holly gasped.

Chris ignored her as he deftly pulled Maggie into his arms and gently shoved Holly at me. "Have fun!" he said as they danced away.

Someone bumped into Holly, nudging her even closer to me.

"Nice music," she commented, and glanced around the floor at the dancing couples.

"Yes, ma'am," I said, as we stood in the middle of the dance floor.

She winced and tilted her head back to meet my gaze. "If we're going to be together all week, Miss Peck, I think you should know, I hate being called 'ma'am.'"

"Yes, ma'am," I said deliberately. "Probably as much as I hate being called, 'Miss Peck."

"What should I call you," Holly asked, "Sergeant?"

"It's Sergeant Major, actually."

"I know."

"That's right," I said with a short nod. "Your father is an officer."

"Was," she corrected, loudly enough to be heard over the music. "He's retired."

"Impossible," I retorted. "Once a Police, always a Police.'"

"Yeah," Holly admitted on a sigh. "I know."

I decided to ignore her obvious dislike for the police force. "How about you call me Gail, and I'll call you Holly?"

She pulled in a long, slow, deep breath, and I fought to keep my gaze from dropping to the swell of her breasts.

"Deal," she said. " 'Gail.' It's an unusual name."

I shrugged. "It's short for Abigail."

She nodded. "I see."

An exuberant dancer bumped against her, sending Holly crashing into my chest. She put her hands up to stop her fall, then backed away from me quickly, as if burned and it had…. but in the good way.

Silence again. Just the two of us, standing in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by whirling couples. It was simply stupid for the two of us to just stand there and get trampled.

I didn't have the slightest doubt that Chris and Maggie were covertly watching … hoping for something to happen between us. In fact, that was the main reason I hadn't already asked Holly to dance. I knew it was just what Chris wanted—no, expected. Chris probably figured at the same time, though, that I would refuse to dance just to spite him.

With that thought firmly in mind, I smiled to myself. I had always believed in keeping the enemy guessing.

"Would you like to dance?" we both said at the same time.

I looked at Holly, catching the amusement twinkling in her eyes, and found myself smiling in acknowledgment.

"There's no reason we shouldn't enjoy ourselves, is there?" Holly asked.

"Not a single one," I agreed, and extended one hand toward her. As her palm brushed across mine, that same sense of electricity shot up the length of my arm. I gritted my teeth and for amusement muttered, "Ooo-rah!" because if she hated cops, marines was sure to irk her.

"Oh, Lord," Holly groaned quietly.

I pulled her into my arms.

It felt as though she had been made just for me. We touched cheek to cheek as I held her, but the best part was Holly's breasts pressed to me and her hand resting lightly in mine.

I closed my eyes briefly and prayed for strength.

 **Holly**

Gail felt solid, I told myself. Right. My left hand stole across her shoulder to the back of her neck. Miles of toned muscles, I thought, and briefly entertained the notion of seeing those muscles in their bare naked glory. My breath caught in my throat, and my stomach did a series of somersaults. I stumbled slightly, then stepped quickly to get back into the rhythm of the dance.

Nope, I told myself firmly. I would not let Gail get to me. I had spent a whole year avoiding this woman and, darn it, I wasn't about to cave in to my hormones in one night.

My feet wobbled beneath me, and Gail's arm around my waist tightened in response. Glancing up at her, I met her smile with one of my own.

"Did I step on your toes?" Gail asked.

Good-looking, great body and polite, I thought. Gail knew very well she hadn't stepped on my toes. She was simply covering for my misstep.

"No," I said. "My mind must have drifted." Now that had to be the biggest understatement since Custer said, _I think I see an Indian._ Of course, nowadays, it would be Native American.

"It's been a while since I've been dancing," Gail said.

"Me too." Brilliant, I thought. Nothing better than some scintillating after-dinner conversation.

"So," I said, trying to say something intelligent, "how long have you and Chris known each other?" I already knew the answer to that one. Hadn't I been hearing Chris sing this woman's praises for the past year?

"We met as rookie out of the academy."

"Long time ago?"

"Ten years."

Oh my, yes, this conversation was getting better and better.

Gail executed a smooth turn that lifted the hem of my skirt to swirl around my legs. "So what made you stay in the police force?" I asked, needing to talk to keep my mind off other, more distracting thoughts.

"What made you decide to be a cook?"

I bristled slightly. "Chef," I said. "Pastry chef, to be specific."

Gail's eyebrows lifted. "I stand corrected." She held me tightly, did a series of turns that left me breathless, then led me back into a standard waltz.

When I could speak again, I tilted my head back to look into those blue eyes of hers. "I enjoy being a chef. I'm good at it."

"Ditto."

"Huh?"

"I enjoy being a police officer," Gail explained further. "I'm good at it."

"Oh." Yep, I thought. My father would love this woman. Two people cut from the same cloth, so to speak. "Where are you stationed?" I asked next.

"For now Division 15."

I bit my tongue to stop myself from admitting that I had already known that, too. Maggie and Chris talked about Gail all the time. I would even be willing to bet that I knew what she had for breakfast every morning. The bridal couple had not been exactly subtle in their matchmaking efforts.

"Isn't that sort of a long drive from here?"

"With traffic, about an hour."

I nodded as Gail's thighs moved against mine. My brain slipped into neutral. We moved through the dancing couples with an almost magical ease. Gliding, swaying around the floor, it was as if we had been dancing together for years.

The song ended, giving way to another, and we went on, oblivious to anyone else in the room.

Gail's legs brushed mine. She threaded her slender, firm fingers through mine, and our palms met. Her hand on my waist dipped a bit, coming to rest on the curve of my behind. Everywhere Gail touched me, I felt as though I was on fire.

Raw, primitive heat coursed through my body, making my heart pound and my blood race. My breasts rubbed against hers and my nipples tightened expectantly. A damp ache settled in her center, making my thighs tremble.

How was I supposed to ignore Gail if my own body was working against me?

"So," Gail asked suddenly, "what made you change your mind about Chris and Maggie?"

I squeezed my eyes shut briefly before looking up at her. "They told you I was against their marriage?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I was afraid of that."

"Don't worry about it," Gail told me. "Chris admired you for it even as he was complaining to me about you trying to split them up."

"He did?"

"Yeah. Said you were just trying to protect your sister." Her gaze settled on me. "Loyalty is something we admire in the police force."

I nodded, understanding completely. "Semper Fidelis," I whispered knowing Gail would be familiar with the Latin phrase.

"You got it."

I was a little ashamed now of the hard time I had given Chris when he and Maggie had started dating. And I had to give my sister's fiancé points. He hadn't given up and he hadn't held my opposition against me. "He's a nice man."

"The best." Gail's tone changed when she added, "I'm not so nice. You made Chris pretty miserable for a long time."

"I guess I'm not so nice, either." I stiffened in her arms. It was one thing for me to regret my own behavior privately, but I wasn't about to stand still for a lecture. "Maggie's always been too romantic for her own good. I had to look out for her."

After a long moment Gail nodded, then asked, "And who looks out for you?"

My stomach flip-flopped as I stared into her eyes. Ignoring it, I answered, "I do."

As another song ended, Gail looked down at me, her gaze clashing with mine in a silent tumult of emotion. I drew one long, shuddering breath. What was it about this woman? I wasn't a stranger to women in uniform, so that old cliché didn't hold true. Clearly then, it was something about Gail Peck herself that was getting to me. But I wasn't willing to risk that; not with everything else that was happening in my life.

Desperately unsettled, I whispered, "I think I'd better get back home."

"Already?" That voice of hers rumbled along my spine and sent every one of my nerve endings into overdrive.

Deliberately I took a step back, pulling my hand from Gail's grasp. "Yeah. Maggie wants me to run a couple of errands for her in the morning, and who knows what she and Chris will have planned for us later in the day."

"They are trying to keep us together, aren't they?"

"Maggie's always been stubborn."

"Chris, too."

I nodded, telling myself to move. Get away. Walk fast, no, run to a car; any car that promised me a ride home. Why hadn't I driven myself? Because I had listened to Maggie, that's why.

"Anyway," I said, starting off the dance floor toward our table. "Thanks for the dance, and I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Just a minute," Gail said, and I glanced back to see her wind her way through the swaying couples to speak with Chris. In moments she was back again. Taking my elbow, she said, "All right, let's go."

"Let's? You're leaving, too?"

She shot me a quick look. "I'm taking you home."

"Oh, that's not necessary," I babbled. "I'll just grab a cab."

"Look," Gail said, "you came with Maggie. You need a ride. I'm available. Why wait for a cab when you're ready to leave now?"

Terrific, I thought. Not just a police officer. The Sir Galahad of them.

"Really, Gail," I started to say.

The sentence trailed off into silence as soon as I met her gaze. There was no way this woman was going to put me in a cab.

Inhaling deeply, I blew the air out in a rush and accepted the inevitable. "Okay then, let's go."

Windows down, the cold, sea-kissed air rushed in at us as Gail steered the late-model Mustang up Lake Shore Boulevard.

"Nice car," I said after several moments of tense silence.

"Rented," Gail muttered.

"Where's yours?" I asked maybe out of politeness or actual curiosity.

"Don't have one."

Conversation would be a lot simpler, I told myself, if I didn't have to practically use a bayonet to force Gail to participate. She had been a heck of a lot chattier on the dance floor, I thought. Why the change? Was it because now it was just the two of them? Well, whatever the reason, I wasn't going to sit in stony silence the whole way home.

"Why don't you own a car?" I asked.

She shot me a sidelong glance. "Too much trouble to own one when you're never in one place more than a few months. I just use whatever work provides."

What she said was a veritable flood of information for me, and with it, childhood memories. My father, too, had never owned a car until he and mom had retired to Florida several years before.

We lapsed into silence again, and I bit my tongue to keep from being the one to speak first this time. But maybe I shouldn't be so hard on Gail, I thought. I had seen the look on her face while we danced. I knew that she had been feeling the same overpowering attraction that I had experienced. All things considered, I thought, we were doing well indeed, having any sort of conversation.

Although, I told myself as miles of beach road disappeared behind us, perhaps it would be better all the way around if we each simply owned up to the truth of what was happening between us. I looked at Gail's stoic profile and knew that if we were going to get this out into the open, it would be up to me to start the ball rolling.

Before I could change my mind, I said, "This won't work, you know."

 **Gail**

My breath left me in a rush. I gave her a brief, half smile before turning my gaze back to the road. "I'm glad you see that, too."

"Of course I do," Holly told me.

Shaking my head, I went on as if she hadn't spoken. "The last thing I need in my life is a woman."

"I feel the same way," she tossed in and I responded with a confused look. Correcting herself, she said quickly, "About not needing a woman, I mean. Particularly, a police officer."

I frowned at the distinction, then nodded and started talking again, as if her words had broken a dam that had stood as long as it was able. "I tried marriage once, you know."

"No, I didn't."

So there was something about me after all that Maggie and Chris hadn't told her.

"Yeah," I said, almost to myself. "Only lasted a few months."

"What happened?"

I shrugged slender shoulders. "She left me. Better in the end, I suppose. She couldn't handle being a police wife."

"It's not an easy job," she said. I was sure unwillingly or not, Holly felt a stab of empathy for my ex. Growing up with a father (and her mother a husband) who was absent half the time couldn't have been easy.

"That's right. You would know. Your father was a lifer rookie to retirement."

"Yeah, and you could say my mother was, too. Lord knows she should have gotten a medal or two."

I bowed my head slightly in acknowledgment. "It takes a special woman to handle it. My ex didn't like the idea of the absences, for one thing."

"Ah, undercover and special task-force assignments," Holly said softly, no doubt remembering all of the times her father had been called for assignment.

"Yes and that's mainly what I do and," I went on, not oblivious to her silence, "she wasn't real keen on the notion of packing up and moving on a moment's notice for her safety if a case got compromised."

I gave her a side glance and watched her expression dim further as the fullness and reality of the situation washed over her. She would naturally draw parallels to her own experience and conclude they weren't worth reliving.

Finally Holly said slowly, "You know, Gail, any woman who really loves a woman or a man can put up with just about anything. I think you just picked the wrong woman."

I came to a stop at a traffic signal and turned my head to look at her in the yellow glow of a fog lamp streetlight.

"You're probably right," I conceded. "But either way, once was enough for me. I won't try it again. A mistake like that is hard to correct and almost impossible to forget."

The light turned green, and I stepped on the gas.

"I agree completely. "Holly settled back into her seat. "It's good to get this all into the open." She reasoned. "I have no intention of marrying; especially a police officer. Growing up with one was enough. Besides, I've yet to meet any woman I would be interested in enough to even think about marriage." She turned her head away from me then to watch the black waves roll in toward shore. "And I like having my time to myself. I need it; to think; to work."

"I know just what you mean," I said. As we neared Sunnyside Beach, I pulled the car close to the curb, threw it into park and shut off the engine.

Holly looked at me. "What are you up to?"

"Not a thing, ma'am. Just thought you might like to take a little stroll on the beach before heading back to your place."

It was odd, that once we had started talking openly about how neither of us was interested in the other, we were getting along great.

"You know something?" Holly said. "That sounds like a wonderful idea."

I got out, came around to Holly's side and opened the door for her. Once I'd helped her out of the low-slung car, I released her hand and walked beside her as we crossed the street to the steps leading down to the sand.

"I'm really glad we had that little talk, Gail."

"I am, too, Holly," I said. "We'll be spending a lot of time together this coming week, and there's no reason why we can't relax and enjoy each other's company. As friends."

Friends. Sure. Why not? We could do it. We were both grown-ups. Uncontrollable lust was for teenagers or for those who had no self-control.

"Friends," Holly agreed firmly. At the bottom of the steps, we paused and she slipped off her shoes. I had already slipped into my flip flops in the car.

"You should maybe keep those on at least until we're clear of the pier. There's probably broken glass all over the place."

Holly looked up at me briefly. "High heels and sand do not mix, Gail."

I nodded slowly, then before she could say another word, I bent before her, offering my back. "Hop on, I'll give you a piggy back."

"What are you doing?" Holly asked.

Turning to grin at her, I said, "Helping a friend."

"Oh." I watched Holly swallowed with difficulty before she hiked her dress up to show those smooth tanned legs "Okay."

Friend, I thought silently. Repeatedly. Maybe if I said it often enough, my body would start to believe it.

 **AN: Thanks for stopping by and reading. I hope you enjoyed chapter 2. I personally enjoyed Gail calling Holly ma'am even though she asked her not to . Lol What was your favourite part?**


	3. Chapter 3 - Sand Soaked Desires

**Chapter 3**

 **Gail**

I set my new "friend" down gently and turned to face her. My body was on full alert as heat pooled between my legs. I was ready… eager. Any much more of this "friendship" and I would be a dead woman or maybe a live-and-in-pain one who wished she were dead.

But what was I thinking? I was a police officer. I brought to justice the lowest of low that society had to offer. I survived whizzing bullets and stupid rookies. Surely I could last a week in the company of Holly Stewart.

I shot her a look from the corner of my eye and had to admit that a week with Holly Stewart was going to be much tougher than any gang banger with a puny little machine gun could be.

We started walking along the shoreline in silence. The tide was out, and the slow ripples of water surged sluggishly toward the beach, occasionally sneaking up close enough to us that we did a quick step to one side to stay dry. Sea-air-scented wind ruffled across the surface of the ocean, and a full moon lent a silvery, almost bright, light to the darkness.

"What was Chris saying to you at the restaurant earlier?"

"Hmm?" I looked at Holly, thought for a minute, then said, "Oh."

"You don't have to say," she said with a gentle laugh. "I bet I could guess."

"Yes, you probably could." Chances were _very_ good that Maggie had been saying the same things to her.

"Why do you suppose they're trying so hard to bring us together?"

I shrugged again. "They mean well."

"So did the Crusaders."

I laughed aloud at her gloomy tone as much as at her words.

She looked up at me and grinned. "I guess there really isn't anything we can do to stop them, is there?"

"Short of getting married?" I asked. "No."

"Well, as much as I love Maggie," Holly said as she bent down to pick up a piece of driftwood, "I'm not willing to marry somebody just to make her happy."

"Amen."

She tossed the stick into the receding tide and stared at it for several long moments as it rocked on the rippling surface before being pulled back out to sea. "I haven't been down here in a long time," she said wistfully.

Smiling, I mocked her earlier astonishment that I hadn't owned a car. "What? You don't go to the beach?"

She caught on to what I was doing and said, "Touché."

We started strolling again in a companionable silence. An older couple, walking a tiny dog on a long leash, passed us with a muttered greeting. From far off down the beach we saw the wavering, indistinct glow of small fires burning in the cement fire rings. With the clear, still air, laughter and snatches of campfire songs drifted to us.

But I paid no attention to any of it. Instead, my concentration was focused on the woman walking alongside me, carrying her high heels in one hand. I watched the soft breeze lift her dark brown hair off her neck and thought I caught the scent of her perfume. Something light and feminine and alluring, it sent daggers of need digging into my guts.

Damn, what if I had listened to Chris a year ago when he had first suggested I meet Holly? What might my life have been like these past twelve months? Torture or bliss?

Torture, most definitely.

Because no matter how much I wanted her, no matter how powerful the attraction was between us, I wouldn't allow anything to come of it. In fact, I couldn't imagine why Chris and Maggie had thought to pair the two of us up, anyway. We couldn't be more different. I snorted a choked laugh and shook my head.

"What's so funny?" Holly asked. Reaching up, she plucked at a long strand of windblown hair that had attached itself to her eyelashes.

"Just thinking," I answered. "Chris and Maggie must have been nuts to think that you and I—"

"Nuts," she agreed.

" A cop, and—" I stopped, cocked my head at her and wondered aloud "—what is it you're called? The Duchess of Party Cooking?"

Now Holly laughed. "Some reviewer gave me that nickname a couple of years ago." She shrugged. "My publisher loved it and ran with it. It sort of stuck. But all I really am is a pastry chef."

"Who writes bestselling cookbooks."

"Co-writes," she countered, holding up one finger to admonish me. "Which means, I supply the recipes and a few humorous stories about some of my more memorable disasters and Lisa, the writer I work with, puts it all together and makes me sound brilliant."

I looked at her, surprise gleaming in my eyes. "Not many people would admit that they don't actually write their own books."

She smiled at me. "No point in denying it. Lisa's name is right there on the cover."

"And whose idea was that?"

I watched her gaze shifted to the darkness of the sea. "Mine," she admitted. "I can cook, but I can't write, and I don't want to take bows for something I didn't do."

I knew lots of people who wouldn't have been bothered by that in the least. There was more to Holly Stewart than just the way she kicked my hormones into high gear.

Moving away from those ideas, I instead focused on what I had been thinking before. "Still, what could a police officer and a 'Duchess' possibly have in common?"

"Not much, besides knowing two people with way too much time on their hands."

"True."

She turned to look at me, and one glance from those deep dark eyes of hers and I felt as keyed up and tightly strung as I did right before a sting operation.

I sucked in a quick, deep breath and saw her do the same before she turned away abruptly.

She then bent down, picked up another, longer stick and turned her back on the ocean.

"What are you doing?" I asked, silently grateful that she had broken eye contact.

"Something I haven't done in years," she said, and started writing her name in the water-soaked sand at the edge of the tide.

I stood to one side and watched her.

When she had finished with her own name, she went on, inscribing my name. Her task complete, she tossed the stick aside and stood back, admiring her handiwork. Then she looked up at me expectantly.

"Very nice," I said. "Until the tide moves in." Then the ocean would push ahead, obliterating our names like an eraser moving over a chalkboard.

"Nothing is forever," Holly told me, and as she spoke a rogue surge of water rushed across her ankles and sluiced past her feet. The seawater washed across our names in a haphazard pattern, and in a moment most of the script was gone.

"See?" she said with a lightness that didn't quite cover the note of disappointment in her voice. Then, glancing down at her soaking wet nylons, she grimaced and walked away from the ocean's edge, closer to me. "Hold these for a minute, will you?" she asked, and handed me her heels.

I watched her lift the hem of her already short skirt, I tensed. "What are you doing?"

Bent at the waist, she looked up at me briefly. "I'm just going to take off these nylons."

"Out here?" Did my voice sound as strained to her as it did to me?

"There's nobody around but you and me."

That only made things worse.

I took in another deep gulp of cold air and hoped it would do something to stop the flames erupting in me. I half turned, to give her some privacy. Besides, there was no point in torturing myself.

She saw the movement and chuckled. "Don't worry about it, Gail. It's not panty hose."

Oh, God, I thought, closing my eyes on a quiet groan. Garters?

"Just thigh-highs," she went on, when I still didn't turn back toward her.

Thigh-highs. Black thigh-highs. My body tightened at the mental image of lace and sheer black fabric hugging and caressing those long legs of hers.

"For heaven's sake, Gail," she said. "Look at me. You would see more flesh if I was wearing shorts!"

I turned around, then, and bit back another, deeper groan. It was worse than I had thought. Thigh-highs indeed. Apparently Holly Stewart was completely unaware of just how seductive she looked.

The wide, black lace elastic band hugged the creamy white flesh of her upper thigh and gave way to sheer, black silk covering the rest of her leg. Slowly she smoothed her palms along the stocking, rolling the fragile material beneath her fingertips, exposing her pale white skin, inch by tantalizing inch.

Mouth dry, throat tight, I watched her, unable to look away. Her hands moved down her leg, and my palms itched to help her.

By the time she removed the first stocking, my breathing was strangled. When she started in on the second, bending over slowly to complete the task, my gaze shifted to the curve of her behind beneath the short, tight black skirt.

My fingers tightened around the shoes I held in one hand until I felt the tips of the high heels dig into my palm. I deliberately concentrated on that small discomfort to take my mind off the nearly overwhelming pain of my aching groin.

Finally Holly straightened up and tossed her hair back out of her eyes. "That feels better," she said, balling her wet nylons up in her hands. "Nothing worse than soggy stockings."

"Uh-huh." I could think of a few things worse.

"Gail?"

I swallowed heavily. "Yes, ma'am?"

"You okay?"

"Yeah," I ground out. "I'm fine." Or I would be as soon as I could get back home and stand under a cold shower for two or three hours. Or days.

"You don't look fine."

"Forget it."

She blinked, surprised at my gruff tone. "Okay."

"Look," I said, more tersely than I had intended, "we talked about this. How whatever it was we're feeling for each other won't work."

"So?"

"So, I'd appreciate you not making this any harder than it already is."

"I made it harder by taking off my stockings? Jeez, Gail, relax." Holly shook her head and turned her face into the wind. "We're both adults. We can handle this … attraction without acting on it."

"I didn't say I was going to act on it. I said you were making things more difficult than it had to be."

"Aren't you overreacting just a little?"

"I don't think so."

"Maybe," Holly said with a long look at my obviously uncomfortable expression, "you'd better take me back home, then."

Now that sounded like a plan. Get out from under the damn full moon, away from the soft, sea-scented breezes and the lulling, hypnotic rush of the ocean. Once distanced from this romantic setting, it would be easier to stick to the friendship we had so recently agreed upon.

"That's probably a good idea," I said abruptly.

"I'll take those," she muttered, and reached for her shoes.

Holly moved in close, destroying my good intentions. Her scent surrounded me. Her warmth called to me, and I couldn't fight it. My resolve disappeared. Instead of giving her the shoes, I dropped them to the sand and grabbed her hand. I felt it again immediately. That sudden jolt of … of heat. Electricity. And she felt it, too. I could see it in her eyes.

Instinctively I pulled her closer. Without a word she moved into the circle of my arms and tilted her head back for my kiss. Moonlight dusted her features, and even as I bent to claim her mouth, I knew I shouldn't. I knew that once the line was crossed it would be impossible to go back.

The wind picked up, and the roar of the ocean sounded all around us.

I brushed my lips across hers gently, once. Twice. Then my mouth came down on hers with a hard, steady pressure, and a crashing wave of sensation fell on me. As if the night sky were lit up with fireworks, I felt myself come to life. I felt an intense connection with this woman, and when she suddenly broke away and took a staggering step back from me, it was as if I'd been dunked in a pool of ice water.

 **Holly**

Breathless and stunned at my reaction to a simple kiss, I had to step away from the woman who had just touched me so deeply. It was a small consolation to see my own shocked feelings etched into Gail's stoic features.

"All right," I whispered, and started walking backward, keeping a wary eye on Gail. "Maybe you weren't overreacting." I shook my head and added, "We can't do this, Gail. I can't do this." Then I turned and ran across the sand. I raced toward the pier and the street beyond were lights, people and a car that could carry me back to me house.

To safety.

I heard her running after me and knew that I would never be able to beat her. Gail had years of training behind her while all I had to show for exercise was a folded-up treadmill that made an excellent silent butler.

Before I got close to the steps leading back to the street, Gail caught up with me. Grabbing my upper arm, she turned me around to face her.

"Why did you run?"

Why was Gail pretending she didn't know the answer to that?

"You know why."

Gail reached up and ran one hand across her pixie haircut. "You don't have to run from me," she growled. "I wouldn't hurt you."

"I know that," I snapped, irritated with myself more than her. Good Lord, I was thirty-two years old. I had been kissed before. Often. So why was I reacting like a giddy teenager on my first date?

Because, a voice in the back of my mind answered, I had never been kissed like that before.

"Look, Gail," I said, trying to explain something that just might prove to be unexplainable. "I wasn't scared, exactly. Just … surprised." Stunned would have been a better word. "I guess I wasn't really running away from you—it was more like running from whatever it is that happens between us whenever we get too close."

Gail nodded abruptly, her mouth thinning into a grim line. "I know the feeling."

"You were right when you said we shouldn't make this more difficult than it already is." I forced a deep breath of cold air into my lungs. "Why start something that neither one of us has any intention of seeing through?"

She looked at me for a long, slow minute. "The only reason I can think of is that cops don't run."

I choked out a laugh. "I'm not a police officer."

"No," Gail said and pulled me close to her. "But I am."

This time, when our lips met, I was prepared for the incredible sensations skittering inside me. At least I thought I was. I gasped as the opening ripples of excitement coursed through me, then I gave myself up to the inevitable. I had known from the moment I had first looked into Gail's blue eyes that this kiss was coming, and instead of worrying about the repercussions, gave myself up to the wonder of it.

Gail parted my lips with the tip of her tongue, and when I opened for her, she plundered my mouth like an invading army. Daggers of desire pricked at my insides, and when she held me tighter, closer, I pressed myself into her, pressing my breasts against her own.

Gail cupped the back of my head, her fingers combing through my hair and I reached up, wrapped my arms around her neck and held on as if afraid I was about to slip off the edge of the world. Her right hand moved across my back, down my spine to the curve of my bottom. Gail followed that curve and held me against her desire. An answering need of my own blossomed inside me, and I moaned gently.

Tearing her mouth from mine, Gail dipped her head to lavish damp kisses along the length of my neck. Her arms tightened around me like twin bands of twisted steel. Desire screamed inside me. The feeling was more, so much more than I had expected. I had the wild, insane desire to rip off my clothes and offer myself to her right there - in the sand.

I craved her touch more than my next breath.

"Gail," I whispered, "I want—"

"Way to go ladies!" A loud voice, filled with laughter, splintered the moment.

Gail straightened abruptly, pulled me close to her protectively and shielded me while I pulled myself together.

Laughter floated down to us from the pier above, and after a moment or two, shuffling footsteps told us that our audience had moved on.

I buried my face against Gail's chest.

"Damn teenagers," she muttered. "They are everywhere. What I wouldn't give to get that kid in boot camp."

"Good God," I groaned, my voice muffled. "What are we doing … thinking?"

"Thinking didn't have much to do with what we were doing," Gail told me and stood stock-still for a long moment, keeping her arms firmly around me. Finally though, she said, "C'mon. I'll take you back to your place."

I drew in a long, shuddering breath as she offered me another piggyback ride and carried me across the glass-littered sand. Ridiculous, but I almost enjoyed being carried around like some modern-day Jane to her Tarzan. I had never known a woman strong enough to lift my not-so-small form as easily as Gail would have a child.

My arm around her shoulders, I tried not to think about the hard, corded muscles lying just beneath her uniform. Or about how much I would love to feel her naked strength beneath my fingertips.

When I thought I could speak without my voice shaking, I tried to lighten the incredibly tension-filled moment. "I thought you said cops don't run?"

Gail turned her head to glance back at me. "We don't. But we have been known to make a strategic retreat now and again … when absolutely necessary."

"Like now?"

"Duchess, exactly like now."


End file.
